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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26451976">let me come home</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/sadrewgarfield/pseuds/sadrewgarfield'>sadrewgarfield</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Generation Kill</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Airports, M/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 06:35:13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,753</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26451976</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/sadrewgarfield/pseuds/sadrewgarfield</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Nate would fly out on Thursday evening, late after his final class, and take the latest flight back on Sunday night. Every time, without fail, Nate would tell Mike his flight number and then insist that he was a grown fucking adult, Mike, you goddamn mother-hen and could take a cab from the airport. And every time, without fail, Mike would watch as Nate would exit his gate and notice Mike’s grinning face in the crowd of people waiting. </p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Nate Fick/Mike Wynn</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>30</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>let me come home</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/ruuhroh/gifts">ruuhroh</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>thank you to my friend tiff for proofreading this ♥</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Nothing started between them until Nate officially decided he wasn’t staying in the Marine Corps. Any perceived power imbalance had weighed heavily on Nate, Mike knew that, as well as the importance of Nate’s command over their team and the respect they held for him. They’d had a frank discussion about it once, in the dark of their humvee during 25% watch. Nate had explained, in that specific way he spoke where you knew he’d carefully considered every word that left his mouth, that he’d felt a connection to Mike for some time, and he hoped he hadn’t misinterpreted Mike’s feelings in return, hadn’t misread the tension between them. As Nate had begun the panic, he had begun a rapid-fire speech about superiority and rank and people being <em> taken advantage of</em>, the words tumbling out of his mouth into the quiet of the humvee like an airstrike into an empty field, Mike had reached out circling his fingers around Nate’s wrist. Mike had felt how Nate’s pulse had thundered under his fingertips. </p><p>“Nate, c’mon, you know it’s mutual.” Mike had swiped his thumb gently across Nate’s wrist, the most deliberate contact they’d had the entire time they’d been in Iraq. “And your big, scary, superior LT rank isn’t gonna scare me away,” he’d teased. “I’m a patient man, I can wait. We can wait. We have time.” Nate had stared at Mike as he spoke, big green eyes shining even in the darkness of the vehicle. They hadn’t mentioned that night again, until their flight home from Iraq when Nate had turned from the safety pamphlet he’d been re-reading to tell Mike he wasn’t re-upping. He intended to apply for college — Harvard, maybe — but it meant soon he wouldn’t be a marine anymore. </p><p>Mike had smiled, “Well, y’know, you’ve always been the brains of the operation,” he’d leant towards Nate a little, and spoke quietly, “and the beauty.” Mike had felt okay flirting, there weren’t many men seated nearby them. The closest had been Brad and Ray, and with Ray’s head resting on Brad’s shoulder, snoring like a chainsaw, they wouldn’t have been able to hear. </p><p>Nate had blushed to the tips of his ears; Mike knew Nate wasn’t an innocent choir boy, could crack dirty jokes and curse with the best of them, but there was something about the flush of his cheeks when he was complimented that made Mike want to sing his praises forever. </p><p>When they’d landed stateside, they’d had time for a break, and rather than separating to different parts of the county, the two of them planned a short road trip together. Q-Tip had joked that he and Christenson should tag along — “Keep the victor together, Gunny!” — but Mike had overhead the boys talking about going home to see Christenson’s parents together. </p><p>Mike and Nate had switched out driving, no particular destination in mind; just following their whims for a few days, stopping where they wanted. After a month of being told exactly where to go and which roads to follow it’d been nice to throw out a map and follow the road where it led them. It had been getting warmer around that time of year, and Nate had packed only t-shirts for their trip. When it was his turn to drive, Mike would get distracted by the freckled skin of his wrists, and the strong muscle of his arms normally hidden by their uniforms.</p><p>It had been a good trip, spent learning more about each other without being surrounded by 30 other men. There’d been something nice about lapsing into silence with Nate, or crooning along to the radio of their rented car. They’d had their first kiss at a rest stop on their first day of the trip, when Mike had come back from the vending machine with a bag of peanut M&amp;Ms for Nate and had been pulled up into a kiss. Nate had probably meant for it to be quick, they were in public even if it was at a dinky rest-stop off the side of a highway, but Mike had wrapped one arm around Nate’s waist and pressed his other hand to the nape of his neck and licked into Nate’s mouth. When the kiss had ended, Nate had smiled, “I didn’t want it to become a big deal, and it felt right to do it now.”</p><p>They’d shared a room every night, finding space at the closest hotel or motel whenever they’d decide to stop each night. There were two beds in each room they stayed in, but they’d only ever use one. On the last night before they turned around and headed back to base, Nate had turned his head towards Mike as they were falling asleep. “I love you, and I’d like to make this work while I go to school.” He hadn’t phrased it as a question, because he knew Mike, like Mike knew Nate, which meant he already knew Mike would agree. Mike had reached out, curling his palm around Nate’s jaw, “I love you, too. And we’ll figure it out, like we always do.” </p><p>It had taken work, they were half a continent away from each other, but they were also independent men. They talked on the phone regularly, and whenever Nate wasn’t drowning in coursework he tried to fly into Texas for the weekend. Careful planning meant Nate had no classes on Friday, so they’d get a little more than three days together, secreted away in their house. Whenever Mike called it that, Nate would insist it was Mike’s house, that he didn’t live there or pay bills. Mike would smile, and remind him that it was Nate’s too, knowing eventually they’d live there together. Nate would fly out on Thursday evening, late after his final class, and take the latest flight back on Sunday night. Every time, without fail, Nate would tell Mike his flight number and then insist that he was<em> a grown fucking adult, Mike, you goddamn mother-hen </em>and could take a cab from the airport. And every time, without fail, Mike would watch as Nate would exit his gate and notice Mike’s grinning face in the crowd of people waiting. </p><p>Mike was still in the Corps and they were generally private people so there was never a grand, romantic reunion. Nate would dodge through the crowd until he was standing in front of Mike, they’d smile, taking each other in, and then Nate would pull Mike into a warm hug. It would linger, but not long enough to draw any attention. After they’d pull back, Mike would point them in the direction of his truck, a hand between Nate’s shoulder blades. Mike would ask Nate about his flight, Nate would ask Mike about traffic and the weather. To all intents and purposes, they’d appear to be two friends. As soon as they’d get back to the truck, after Nate had thrown his backpack in the back and they’d settled in their seats, they’d lean over the gear stick for a real hello. They’d make out for a little while, stretched awkwardly over the centre console. Mike would tease that one of hazards of having a younger boyfriend was back pain from necking in the car. Nate would tease back that Mike was a nag. Then, Mike would drive them home for three days of uninterrupted time together. </p><p>The memories of those weekends helped Mike to stay sane on his next deployment. It was the first time he’d been deployed since he and Nate had made it official, and he was missing Nate like crazy. Not only was it the longest and farthest they’d been apart, but it was also Mike’s first deployment without Nate by his side for a long time. Their new C.O. was a good man, and knew what he was doing; their men still worked hard and Mike loved them, but he missed Nate like a limb. Thinking of the time he’d spent with Nate got him through the rough nights, and more than a few surreptitious combat jacks. Mike wasn’t used to having someone he missed at home, it’d been a while since he’d been in a serious relationship and usually the only things he missed from home were sitting on his back porch with a cold beer and the large tub he liked to soak in in his bathroom. </p><p>Now, Mike spent any spare moment he had thinking about Nate. He’d gently teased other marines about being soft for their girls before, and here he was pining for Nate’s smile, his laugh, the way he’d wake up quietly and shove his face back into the pillow until he went to sleep again, his snarky message replies when Mike would text him telling him to make sure he got some sleep in exam week, the way he was able to hold Mike down and drive him absolutely fucking crazy with pleasure, his inability to cook anything other than scrambled eggs, how smart he was — smarter than Mike by miles — and the fact that he’d use those brains for good one day, his blush and the way it spread from the tips of his ears all the way down his chest, the way he said he hated being touched when he was asleep but would reach out for Mike every time they fell asleep together.</p><p>The most disappointing thing was that when they were told their tour was over and they’d be heading home, Mike knew he wouldn’t be going home to Nate. He tried to keep track of Nate’s school schedule, and time was hard enough to track where <em> he </em> was, but he was pretty sure that when they got back stateside, Nate would be deep in the middle of midterms. Mike still made sure to borrow Brad’s laptop and use the spotty internet connection they sometimes had to send Nate an email letting him know he’d be coming home and what date he’d be arriving. He was sure Nate would make time in his study schedule to Skype or call him that night. Mike knew he was getting soft, but it’d be nice to be able to see Nate’s face again, even on the tiny computer screen.</p><p>The journey home had been exhausting, they’d made it to their layover fine, but the connecting flight back to the States had been delayed and Mike had spent hours listening to the men complain about how they could have swum home faster. He’d also spent both flights in a seat next to Chafin, which was tiring on a completely different level. By the time they’d made it back to Pendleton, and gone through the motions required for the end of deployment, Mike was glad to see the back of California — and his platoon — for a little while. On the plane home to Texas, he thought vaguely about surprising Nate in Boston, taking a flight out for a couple of days of his leave. He’d have to scope out whether Nate had any exams or assignments due in the next week and then he’d look at flights. It’d be nice to see Nate, see the tiny apartment he was living in near campus that he’d only ever seen through the fuzzy lens of a webcam. Nate would probably take him to the burger place he was always harping on about. Mike could admit it’d be nice to fall asleep in a bed that smelled completely of Nate, after months of sleeping by himself in a grave dug into rough desert ground. </p><p>By the time he landed, the plan of visiting Nate had solidified in his head, he’d definitely need a few days to get everything in the house sorted and settle back into “civilian” life, but after that he’d fly off to Boston before going back to Pendleton at the end of his leave. Mike pulled his phone out of his bag as soon as he passed security and pressed the button to turn it back on. He and Nate had talked the night before, not for long, Nate had been busy studying or something. He’d sounded a little distracted, but it had been nice to hear him. Mike’s phone beeped, a text from Nate, ‘Safe flight. Text me when you land.’ Nate would say Mike was the nag, but he knew Nate worried about him too. He replied, ‘Landed. Call you when I get home.’ Nate replied quickly, before Mike even had a chance to get his phone back in his pocket, ‘See you soon.’ Nate was probably planning that they’d Skype tonight, too. </p><p>Mike waited at the baggage claim for his bag, and then started to make his way to the exit of the terminal, thinking about how he’d make time to visit his dad the next day. He was distracted, so he almost didn’t hear the voice calling out “Mike! Mike Wynn!” but after months of people calling out to him whenever they needed help from their Gunny, his head turned automatically towards the sound of his name. A grin spread across Mike’s face as soon as he scoped out who was yelling for him, their eyes locking through the crowd of the terminal. Nate had a smile shining on his face, and he had a hand raised in a wave. As soon as they made eye contact, Nate’s smile widened, his teeth peeking between his lips. Mike pivoted, ducking around people to get to Nate as quickly as possible. Forgoing their normal, friendly airport hug, Mike pulled Nate straight into his arms and cupped a hand around the back of his neck as he pressed his lips to Nate’s smile. </p><p><em> Fuck privacy and discretion</em>, Mike thought; Nate was the best goddamn thing Mike had seen in months. Nate’s arms snuck around Mike, pulling him closer, as he kissed Mike back. Nate was warm, and he smelled just like Mike remembered. Mike hummed as Nate sucked lightly on his bottom lip, before slipping his tongue into Mike’s mouth. They were still in public, so the kiss didn’t go on for too long, or get too deep, but it left Mike feeling a little warm. Mike stroked his thumb against Nate’s hairline as he pulled back from their kiss. Nate was already smiling again, his lips were red, and Mike knew his expression was mirrored on his own face.</p><p>“I didn’t expect to see you here.” They were still holding each other, although not as closely as before, “I thought you had exams this week.” Nate tightened their hug for a moment, before pulling back and picking up Mike’s bag from beside where they were standing. </p><p>“Exams were last week, I had one assignment due today, but I submitted it early so I could be here to meet you.” He slid his hand into Mike’s and started walking out of the terminal. “I flew in yesterday, and let myself into the house so I could clean before you got home.” He squeezed Mike’s hand, “The worst thing about comin’ home is the dust all over your shit, right? I drove your truck here, too, so we don’t have to get a taxi. I considered buying stuff to make dinner, but I didn’t think you’d appreciate me burning down the house on your first day back, so we can order pizza or something. I also sorted your stack of mail, and <em> yes</em>, I made sure to keep all the coupon booklets for you, you fucking old man.” </p><p>Nate threw Mike’s bag into the back of the truck, but before he could open the passenger’s seat door, Mike pushed him up against it, kissing him again. This time, in the relative privacy of a parking lot, and hidden between Mike’s truck and the car in the next spot, Mike let the kiss linger. Nate was just a bit taller than Mike, not enough that it caused an issue, but Mike could admit that he liked that he had to tilt his head up a little to kiss Nate if they were standing. There was something nice, Mike thought, about kissing his guy in public, something they didn’t let themselves do too often. He pulled back a little, before ducking in for one more quick kiss. They pulled apart, and Nate grinned, “That was nice, let's do that some more.” He nudged Mike towards the passenger seat and rounded the truck to hop into the driver’s seat.  “Ready to go home?” he asked. </p><p>“Yeah,” Mike smiled, “Let’s go home.” </p>
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